PS 595 
. W5 W6 




pit K^^id"v;iy;;?'-;:!:'!S;; ;;• . 

'^^ ^* ■'» '* i'c7' ' ■ ' t . • V * / t^ «' ' 'I , • - ■ i ■ < J * ' ' ' ^ * ' 

4t' '!>■'■ i,-:' .;'■■.->. .•. -'.;■)'■' ) 1 ■•' 

• nv '■•,■.' i-..',s. :■) >•' , :r'j''i ■:vv:l -.'i. 



'•. ■( 







/^"■^ J'^ .s^^/ . ^^-i 

: . o V Of* 

C< • . , , • ''V' «^ o^ * , , , • ^0 ^ • 



' "0 o 















-?- 






<^r -X' 

,,V ^. -.^ '?>' <<^ -. 






\'. 









S^ 



• » 



'oV^ 



<^ • • 
♦ > 












^o. 



.-^ 



• » 









.0^ c\ 



o • • 



^^ 



I 



0^ 



-oC" 



./ 



.'^ 






*^. 



;.'■<• ,/ -n. V • ** ^^ '•!' • / % v .• V - 









P-,X. ,.<•;«&;-.% 



)^ . • • • «• 










«C» * » . o ^ 





















-^^ 













* 






Zdf/,. 



/ 



WINTER POEMS 



BY 



FAVORITE AMERICAN POETS 



WITH ILLUSTRATIONS 





^c^ 18 7 



BOSTON 
FIELDS, OSGOOD, & CO. 

187 I 






Enteved according to Act of Congiess, in the year 1S70, 

BY FIELDS, OSGOOD, & CO., 

in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 




" These keep 
Seeming and savour all the winter long." 

SHAKESPEARE, The Winter's Tale. 



In "Winter Poems" the Publishers offer a Holiday 
book having special appropriateness to the season. The 
first poem, " The Pageant," was written expressly for 
this volume. The other poems combine the elements of 
wide popularity, seasonableness, and fitness for illustra- 
tion. It is believed that the variety and beauty of the 
designs, and the excellence of the engraving and printing, 
will commend the volume to the highest fi.\vor of the 
public. 





Ji':, 




CONTENTS. 

Page 

The Pageant John Grceulcaf ]VIiittier . . 13 

The Golden Mile-Stone .... Hemy Wadsivorth Longfello-w 21 

A Winter Piece William Oillen Bryant . . 25 

The First Snow- Fall James Knssdl Lowell ■ . ■ ZZ 

In School-Days John Grccnkaf Whittier . . 37 

The Snow-Shower William Cniicn Bryant . . 41 

Woods in Winter l/enry Wadsworth Longfcllo7u 45 

The Snow-Storm Ralph Waldo Emerson . . 4S 

Midnight Mass for the Dying Year Henry Wads-wortk Longfellow 51 





LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



[The Engravings by A. V. S. Anthony, under whose supervision the book is prepared.] 



The Pageant. 

" A sound as if from bells of silver 



Artist. 



Page 



Through the frost-pictured panes I hear." . Harry Fenn 

"Virgin snow-paths glimmering through 
A jewelled elm-tree avenue." " " 



" How yonder Ethiopian hemlock 

Crowned with his glistening circlet stands." " 



The Waterfall 

"The rabbit lightly leaping." 
" Cattle-tramp in crispy snow." 
" Prophecy of summer days." . 



14 

16 

'7 
18 
iS 

20 



The Golden Mile-Stone. 

" Smoky columns 
Tower aloft into the air of amber." 



WiNSLOW Homer 



21 



viii List of Illustrations. 

" Seeing ruined cities in the ashes." .... Wi.nslow HomtlR 
" By the fireside there are youthful dreamers." " 
"By the fireside tragedies are acted." ... " " 

" By the fireside there are peace and comfort." " " 

" On the hearth the lighted logs are glowing." " " 



A Winter Piece. 

" Bright mosses crept 
Over the spotted trunks." C. C. Griswold ... 25 

" The bleak November winds." " " ... 26 

"Thesnow-bird twittered on the beechen bough." " " . . 27 

" And 'neath the hemlock .... 

The partridge found a shelter. Through the snow 

The rabbit sprang away." " " ... 28 

"The slant sun of February." " " ... 29 

" The firm drift 
In the deep glen." " " ... 31 

"The little wind-flower." " " . . . ■:;2 



The First Snow-Fall. 

The Snow-Spirit W. J. Hennessy ... 33 

" I stood and watched by the window." . . " " ... 34 

"With eyes that saw not, I kis.sed her." . . " " ... 36 



List of Illustrations. 



IX 



In School-Days. 

"The school-house by the road." S. Eytinge, Jr. 

"For near her stood the Httle boy." .... 

" The grasses on her grave." " " 



37 
39 
40 



The Snow-Shower. 

"Stand here by my side and turn, I pray, 
On the lake below thy gentle eyes." 

" I see in thy gentle eyes a tear." . . . 

The Silent Lake. . . 



W. J. Hennessy 



Homer D. Martin 



41 

43 

44 



Woods in Winter. 

" With solemn feet I tread the hill." . 

"The embracing sunbeams chastely play 
And gladden these deep solitudes." 

"The crystal icicle is hung." .... 



" And the song ceased not with the day." 

"And gathering winds, in hoarse accord, 
Amid the vocal reeds pipe loud." 

"I hear it in the opening year" . . . 



Harry Fenn 



(( >( 



i( (( 



45 

45 
46 
46 

47 
47 



The Snow-Storm. 

" Announced by all the trumpets of the sky 
Arrives the snow." 



" The north-wind's masonry." . . . 
" The frolic architecture of the snow." 



Jervis McEntee 



a t( 



48 

49 

50 



X 



List of Jliustrations. 



Midnight Mass for the Dying Year. 

" Death, with frosty hand and cold, 

Plucks the old man by the beard." . . 



"The foolish, fond Old Year/ 



"Then, too, the Old Year dieth 
And the forests utter a moan." .... 

" There shall come a mightier blast, 

There shall be a darker day." .• , 41 



Alfred Fredericks 



51 

54 
55 



[The Vignettes and Ornatnenls in the introductory pages are drawn by John J. Harley.] 




ni0^:- 




THE PAGEANT. 



A 



SOUND as if from bells of silver, 
Or elfin cymbals smitten clear, 
Through the frost-pictured panes I hear. 



A brightness which outshines the morning, 
A splendor brooking no delay. 
Beckons and tempts my feet away. 



I leave the trodden village highway 

For virgin snow-paths glimmering through 
A jewelled elm-tree avenue ; 



14 



The Pageant. 




Where, keen against the walls of sapphire, 
The gleaming tree-bolls, ice-embossed, 
Hold up their chandeliers of frost. 



I tread in Orient halls enchanted, 

I dream the Saga's dream of caves 
Gem-lit beneath the North Sea waves ! 



The Pao-cant. 



«b 



15 



I walk the land of Eldorado, 

I touch its mimic garden bowers, 

Its silver leaves and diamond flowers ! 



The flora of the mystic mine-world 
Around me lifts on crystal stems 
The petals of its clustered gems ! 



What miracle of weird transforming 

Is this wild work of frost and light, 
This glimpse of glory infinite ! 



This foregleam of the Holy City 

Like that to him of Patmos given, 

The white bride coming down from heaven ! 



How flash the ranked and mail-clad alders, 

Through what sharp-glancing spears of reeds 
The brook its muffled water leads ! 



Yon maple, like the bush of Horeb, 

Burns unconsumed : a white, cold fire 
Rays out from every grassy spire. 



i6 



The Pageant. 



Each slender rush and spike of mullein, 
Low laurel shrub and drooping fern, 
Transfigured, blaze where'er I turn. 




How yonder Ethiopian hemlock 

Crowned with his glistening circlet stands ! 
What jewels light his swarthy hands ! 



Here, where the forest opens southward. 
Between its hospitable pines. 
As through a door, the warm sun shines. 



The jewels loosen on the branches. 

And lightly, as the soft winds blow. 
Fall, tinkling, on the ice below. 



The Pao-eant. 



17 




And through the clashing of 
I hear the old familiar 
Of water down the rocky 



Where, from its wintry prison breaking, '^'m it 

In dark and silence hidden long, iiill'ilM If 1 
The brook repeats its summer song. iMal^ \^ f.' 




One instant flashing in the sunshine, T^ 



Keen as a sabre from its sheath, t^^ii-^^^^i.. 

beneath 




Then lost again the ice beneath 




i8 



The Paorcaiit. 




I hear the rabbit hghtly leaping, 

I 

The foolish screaming of the jay, 
The chopper's axe-stroke far away 

- rT- ^ 

The clamor of some neighboring barn-yard 
The lazy cock's belated crow, ^m 

WOr cattle-tramp in crispy snow. 







The Pageant. 19 

And, as in some enchanted forest 

The lost knight hears his comrades sing, 
And, near at hand, their bridles ring, 



So welcome I these sounds and voices, 

These airs from far-off summer blown, 
This life that leaves me not alone. 



For the white glory overawes me ; 
The crystal terror of the seer 
Of Chebar's vision blinds me here. 



Rebuke me not, O sapphire heaven ! 

Thou stainless earth, lay not on me 
This keen reproach of purity ! 



Let the strange frost-work sink and crumble. 
And let the loosened tree-boughs swing, 
Till all their bells of silver ring. 



Shine warmly down, thou sun of noontime, 
On this chill pageant, melt and move 
The winter's frozen heart with love. 



20 



The Pageant. 



And, soft and low, thou wind south-blowing, 
Breathe through a veil of tenderest haze 
Thy prophecy of summer days. 



Come with thy green relief of promise. 

And to this dead, cold splendor bring 
The living jewels of the spring ! 








:c ii6-M!|ga ^ 



branches 



iPIMIff' Spread themselves abroad, like reefs of coral, 
^~*?^P^ Rising silent 

In the Red Sea of the winter sunset. 



From the hundred chimneys of the village, 
Like the Afreet in the Arabian story, 

Smoky columns 
Tower aloft into the air of amber. 



At the window winks the flickering firelight ; 
Here and there the lamps of evening glimmer, 

Social watch-fires 
Answering one another through the darkness. 



On the hearth the lighted logs are glowing, 
And like Ariel in the cloven pine-tree 

For its freedom 
Groans and sighs the air imprisoned in them. 



22 



The Golden Mile-stone. 




By the fireside there are old men seated, 
Seeing ruined cities in the ashes, 

Asking sadly 
Of the Past what it can ne'er restore them. 



By the fireside there are youthful dreamers. 
Building castles fair, with stately stairways. 

Asking blindly 
Of the Future what it cannot give them. 




The Golden Mile-stone. 



23 




By the fireside tragedies are acted 

In whose scenes appear two actors only, 

Wife and husband, 
And above them God the sole spectator. 

By the fireside there are peace and comfort, 
Wives and children, with fair, thoughtful faces, 

Waiting, watching. 
For a well-known footstep in the passage. 




24 



The Golden Mile-stone. 

Each man's chimney is his Golden Mile-stone ; 
Is the central point, from which he measures 

Every distance 
Through the gateways of the world around him. 

In his farthest wanderings still he sees it ; 

Hears the talking flame, the answering night-wind, 

As he heard them 
When he sat with those who were, but are not. 



Happy he whom neither wealth nor fashion, 
Nor the march of the encroaching city. 

Drives an exile 
From the hearth of his ancestral homestead. 



We may build more splendid habitations, 

Fill our rooms with paintings and with sculptures, 

But we cannot 
Buy with gold the old associations! _,.-3^, 





A WINTER PIECE. 



'nr^HE time has been that these wild solitudes, 

Yet beautiful as wild, were trod by me 
Oftener than now ; and when the ills of life 
Had chafed my spirit — when the unsteady pulse 
Beat with strange flutterings — I would wander forth 
And seek the woods. The sunshine on my path 
Was to me as a friend. The swelling hills, 
The quiet dells retiring far between. 
With gentle invitation to explore 
Their windings, were a calm society 
That talked with me and soothed me. Then the chant 
Of birds, and chime of brooks, and soft caress 
Of the fresh sylvan air, made me forget 
The thoughts that broke my peace, and I began 
To gather simples by the fountain's brink. 
And lose myself in day-dreams. While I stood 
In Nature's loneliness, I was with one 
With whom I early grew familiar, one 



26 



A Winter Piece. 



Who never had a frown for me, whose voice 
Never rebuked me for the hours I stole 
From cares I loved not, but of which the World 
Deems highest, to converse with her. When shrieked 




The bleak November winds, and smote the woods, 

And the brown fields were herbless, and the shades 

That met above the merry rivulet 

Were spoiled, I sought, I loved them still ; they seemed 

Like old companions in adversity. 

Still there was beauty in my Avalks ; the brook, 

Bordered with sparkling frost-work, was as gay 



A Winter Piece. 



27 



As with its fringe of summer flowers. Afar, 
The village with its spires, the path of streams 
And dim receding valleys, hid before 
By interposing trees, lay visible 
Through the bare grove, and my familiar haunts 
Seemed new to me. Nor was I slow to come 
Among them, when the clouds from their still skirts 
Had shaken down on earth the feathery snow. 
And all was white. The pure keen air abroad, 
Albeit it breathed no scent of herb, nor heard 
Love-call of bird nor merry hum of bee, 
Was not the air of death. Bright mosses crept 
Over the spotted trunks, and the close buds, 
That lay along the boughs, instinct with life, 
Patient, and waiting the soft breath of Spring, 
Feared not the piercing spirit of the North. 
The snow-bird twittered on the beechen bough, 




28 



A Winter Piece. 



And 'neath the hemlock, whose 

thick branches bent 
Beneath its bright cold burden, and 

kept dry 
A circle, on the earth, of withered 

leaves. 
The partridge found a shelter. 

Through the snow 
The rabbit sprang away. The 

lighter track 
Of fox, and the raccoon's broad 

path, were there, 
Crossing each other. From his 

hollow tree 
The squirrel was abroad, gathering 

the nuts 
Just fallen, that asked the winter 

cold and sway 

Of Avinter blast to 

shake them from 

their hold. 




A Winter Piece. 



29 



But winter has yet brighter scenes, — he boasts 
Splendors beyond what gorgeous Summer knows ; 
Or Autumn with his many fruits, and woods 
All flushed with many hues. Come when the rains 
Have glazed the snow, and clothed the trees with ice, 
While the slant sun of February pours 
Into the bowers a flood of light. Approach ! 
The incrusted surface shall upbear thy steps, 
And the broad arching portals of the grove 
Welcome thy entering. Look ! the massy trunks 




Are cased in the pure crystal ; each light spray, 
Nodding and tinkling in the breath of heaven, 
Is studded with its trembling water-drops, 
That glimmer with an amethystine light. 
But round the parent stem the long low boughs 
Bend, in a glittering ring, and arbors hide 



J 



o A Winter Piece. 

The glassy floor. Oh ! you might deem the spot 

The spacious cavern of some virgin mine, 

Deep in the womb of earth, — where the gems grow. 

And diamonds put forth radiant rods and bud 

With amethyst and topaz, — and the place 

Lit up, most royally, with the pure beam 

That dwells in them. Or haply the vast hall 

Of fairy palace, that outlasts the night, 

And fades not in the glory of the sun ; — 

Where crystal columns send forth slender shafts 

And crossing arches ; and fantastic aisles 

Wind from the sight in brightness, and are lost 

Among the crowded pillars. Raise thine eye ; 

Thou seest no cavern roof, no palace vault ; 

There the blue sky and the white drifting cloud 

Look in. Again the wildered fancy dreams 

Of spouting fountains, frozen as they rose, 

And fixed, with all their branching jets, in air, 

And all their sluices sealed. All, all is light ; 

Light without shade. But all shall pass away 

With the next sun. From numberless vast trunks 

Loosened, the crashing ice shall make a sound 

Like the far roar of rivers, and the eve 

Shall close o'er the brown woods as it was wont. 



And it is pleasant, when the noisy streams 
Are just set free, and milder suns melt off 



A Winter Piece, 



31 




The plashy snow, save only the firm drift 

In the deep glen or the close shade of pines, — 

'T is pleasant to behold the wreaths of smoke 

Roll up among the maples of the hill, 

Where the shrill sound of youthful voices wakes 

The shriller echo, as the clear pure lymph, 

That from the wounded trees, in twinkling drops 



32 



A Winter Piece. 



Falls, mid the golden brightness of the morn, 
Is gathered in with brimming pails, and oft. 
Wielded by sturdy hands, the stroke of axe 
Makes the woods ring. Along the quiet air 
Come and float calmly off the soft light clouds. 
Such as you see in summer, and the winds 
Scarce stir the branches. Lodged in sunny cleft, 
Where the cold breezes come not, blooms alone 
The little wind-flower, whose just opened eye 
Is blue as the spring heaven it gazes at. 
Startling the loiterer in the naked groves 
With unexpected beauty, for the time 
Of blossoms and green leaves is yet afar. 
And ere it comes, the encountering winds shall oft 
Muster their wrath again, and rapid clouds 
Shade heaven, and bounding on the frozen earth 
Shall fall their volleyed stores, rounded like hail 
And white like snow, and the loud North again 
Shall buff"et the vexed forest in his rage. 





THE FIRST SNOW-FALL. 

'T^HE snow had bcc:^un in the gloaming, 

And busily all the night 
Had been heaping field and highway 
With a silence deep and white. 



Every pine and fir and hemlock 
Wore ermine too dear for an earl, 

And the poorest twig on the elm-tree 
Was ridged inch deep with pearl. 



From sheds new-roofed with Carrara 
Came Chanticleer's muffled crow, 

The stiff" rails were softened to swan's-down. 
And still fluttered down the snow. 



34 



The First Snow-Fall. 




I stood and watched by the window 
The noiseless work of the sky, 

And the sudden flurries of snow-birds, 
Like brown leaves whirling by. 



The First Snoiv-FalL 35 

I thought of a mound in sweet Auburn 

Where a little headstone stood ; 
How the flakes were folding it gently, 

As did robins the babes in the wood. 



Up spoke our own little Mabel, 

Saying, " Father, who makes it snow ? " 

And I told of the good All-Father 
Who cares for us here below. 



Again I looked at the snow-fall. 
And thought of the leaden sky 

That arched o'er our first great sorrow, 
When that mound was heaped so high. 



I remembered the gradual patience 
That fell from that cloud like snow, 

Flake by flake, healing and hiding 
The scar of our deep-plunged woe. 



And again to the child I whispered, 
" The snow that husheth all, 

Darling, the merciful Father 
Alone can make it fall ! " 



36 



The First Snozu-FalL 



Then, with eyes that saw not, I kissed her; 

And she, kissing back, could not know 
That my kiss was given to her sister. 

Folded close under deepening snow. 




i;p 








IN SCHOOL-DAYS 



OTILL sits the school-house by the road, 
^""""^^ A ragged beggar sunning ; 
Around it still the sumachs grow, 
And blackberry-vines are running. 



Within, the master's desk is seen. 
Deep scarred by raps official ; 

The warping floor, the battered seats, 
The jack-knife's carved initial ; 



The charcoal frescos on its wall ; 

Its door's worn sill, betraying 
The feet that, creeping slow to school, 

Went storming out to playing ! 



38 In School-Days. 

It touched the tangled golden curls, 
And brown eyes full of grieving, 

Of one who still her steps delayed 
When all the school were leaving. 



For near her stood the little boy 

Her childish favor singled ; 
His cap pulled low upon a face 

Where pride and shame were mingled. 



Pushing with restless feet the snow 
To right and left, he lingered ; — 

As restlessly her tiny hands 

The blue-checked apron fingered. 



He saw her lift her eyes ; he felt 
The soft hand's light caressing, 

And heard the tremble of her voice, 
As if a fault confessing. 



" I 'm sorry that I spelt the word : 

I hate to go above you, 
Because," — the brown eyes lower fell, 

" Because, you see, I love you ! " 



In School-Days. 



39 



Long years ago a winter sun 
Shone over it at setting ; 

Lit up its western window-panes, 
And low eaves' icy fretting. 




40 



In School-Days. 



Still memory to a gray-haired man 
That sweet child-face is showing, 

Dear girl ! the grasses on her grave 
Have forty years been growing ! 



He lives to learn, in life's hard school, 
How few who pass above him 

Lament their triumph and his loss, 
Like her, • — because they love him. 








THE SNOW-SHOWER, 



OTAND here by my side and turn, I pray, 

On the lake below thy gentle eyes ; 
The clouds hang over it, heavy and gray, 

And dark and silent the water lies ; 
And out of that frozen mist the snow 
In wavering flakes begins to flow ; 

Flake after flake 
They sink in the dark and silent lake. 



42 The Snow-Shower. 

See how in a living swarm they come 

From the chambers beyond that misty veil ; 

Some hover awhile in air, and some 

Rush prone from the sky like summer hail. 

All, dropping swiftly or settling slow, 

Meet, and are still in the depths below ; 

Flake after flake 

Dissolved in the dark and silent lake. 



Here delicate snow-stars, out of the cloud. 
Come floating downward in airy play, 

Like spangles dropped from the glistening crowd 
That whiten by night the milky-way ; 

There broader and burlier masses fall ; 

The sullen water buries them all — 

Flake after flake — 

All drowned in the dark and silent lake. 



And some, as on tender wings they glide 
From their chilly birth-cloud, dim and gray. 

Are joined in their fall, and, side by side. 
Come clinging along their unsteady way ; 

As friend with friend, or husband with wife 

Makes hand in hand the passage of life ; 

Each mated flake 

Soon sinks in the dark and silent lake. 



The Sfiow-S /lower. 



43 




Lo ! while we are gazing, in swifter haste 
Stream down the snows, till the air is white, 

As, myriads by myriads madly chased. 

They fling themselves from their shadowy height. 

The fair, frail creatures of middle sky, 

What speed they make, with their grave so nigh ; 

Flake after flake. 

To lie in the dark and silent lake ! 



44 



The Snow-Shower. 



I see in thy gentle eyes a tear.; 

They turn to me in sorrowful thought : 
Thou thinkest of friends, the good and dear, 

Who were for a time, and now are not ; 
Like these fair children of cloud and frost, 
That glisten a moment and then are lost, 

Flake after flake, — 
All lost in the dark and silent lake. 




Yet look again, for the clouds divide ; 

A gleam of blue on the water lies ; 
And far away, on the mountain-side, 

A sunbeam falls from the opening skies. 
But the hurrying host that flew between 
The cloud and the water no more is seen ; 

Flake after flake, 
At rest in the dark and silent lake. 




WOODS IN WINTER. 

\ T /"HEN winter winds are piercing chill, 

And through the hawthorne blows the gale, 
With solemn feet I tread the hill, 
That overbrows the lonely vale. 




O'er the bare upland, and away 

Through the long reach of desert woods, 
The embracing sunbeams chastely play, 

And gladden these deep solitudes. 



46 Woods i?i Winter. 

Where, twisted round the barren oak, 
The summer vine in beauty clung, 

And summer winds the stilhiess broke, 
The crystal icicle is hung. 




Where, from their frozen urns, mute springs 
Pour out the river's gradual tide. 

Shrilly the skater's iron rings, 

And voices fill the woodland side. 




Alas ! how changed from the fair scene, 
When birds sang out their mellow lay. 

And winds were soft, and woods were green, 
And the song ceased not with the day ! 



Woods in Winter. 

But still wild music is abroad, 

Pale, desert woods ! within your crowd ; 
And gathering winds, in hoarse accord, 

Amid the vocal reeds pipe loud. 



47 




Chill airs and wintry winds ! my ear 
Has grown familiar with your song ; 

I hear it in the opening year, — 
I listen, and it cheers me long. 



^m:MiMMM,:i 




■'iir'!i 



'1 






iiKiJl 



THE SNOW-STORM. 

A NNOUNCED by all the trumpets of the sky, 
Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields, 
Seems nowhere to alight : the whited air 
Hides hills and woods, the river, and the heaven. 
And veils the farm-house at the garden's end. 
The sled and traveller stopped, the courier's feet 
Delayed, all friends shut out, the housemates sit 
Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed 
In a tumultuous privacy of storm. 




The Snow-Storni. 



49 



Come see the north-wind's masonry 
Out of an unseen quarry evermore 
Furnished with tile, the fierce artificer 
Curves his white bastions with projected roof 
Round every windward stake, or tree, or door 
Speeding, the myriad-handed, his wild work 
So fanciful, so savage, naught cares he 




For number or proportion. 

Mockingly, | 

On coop or kennel he hangs 

Parian wreaths ; 
A swan-like form invests the hidden 

thorn ; 



50 



TJie Snow-Siorm. 



Fills up the farmer's lane from wall to wall, 
Maugre the farmer's sighs ; and, at the gate, 
A tapering turret overtops the work. 
And when his hours are numbered, and the world 
Is all his own, retiring, as he were not. 
Leaves, when the sun appears, astonished Art 
To mimic in slow structures, stone by stone, 
Built in an age, the mad wind's night-work, 
The frolic architecture of the snow. 




MIDNIGHT MASS FOR THE DYING YEAR. 



"\/'ES, the Year is growinc^ old, 

And his eye is pale and bleared ! 
Death, with frosty hand and cold. 
Plucks the old man by the beard. 
Sorely, sorely ! 



The leaves are falling, falling, 

Solemnly and slow ; 
Caw ! caw ! the rooks are calling, 

It is a sound of woe, 
A sound of woe ! 

Through woods and mountain passes 
The winds, like anthems, roll ; 

They are chanting solemn masses. 
Singing, " Pray for this poor soul. 
Pray, pray ! " 



52 Midnight Mass for the Dyijig Year. 

And the hooded clouds, like friars, 
Tell their beads in drops of rain, 

And patter their doleful prayers ; 
But their prayers are all in vain, 
All in vain ! 




Midnight Mass for the Dying Year. 53 

There he stands in the foul weather, 

The fooHsh, fond Old Year, 
Crowned with wild-flowers and with heather, 

Like weak, despised Lear, 
A king, a king ! 



Then comes the summer-like day. 

Bids the old man rejoice ! 
His joy ! his last ! O, the old man gray, 

Loveth that ever-soft voice, 
Gentle and low. 



To the crimson woods he saith. 
To the voice gentle and low 

Of the soft air, like a daughter's breath, 
" Pray do not mock me so ! 
Do not laugh at me ! " 



And now the sweet day is dead : 
Cold in his arms it lies ; 

No stain from its breath is spread 
Over the glassy skies, 
No mist or stain ! 



54 



Mzdnigkl Alass for the Dying Year. 




Then, too, the Old Year dieth, 
And the forests utter a moan, 

Like the voice of one who crieth 
In the wilderness alone, 
" Vex not his ghost ! " 



Midnight Mass for the Dying Year, 

Then comes, with an awful roar, 
Gathering and sounding on. 

The storm-wind from Labrador, 
The wind Euroclydon, 
The storm-wind ! 



55 



Howl ! howl ! and from the forest 
Sweep the red leaves away ! 

Would the sins that thou abhorrest, 
O Soul ! could thus decay. 
And be swept away ! 




For there shall come a mightier blast. 

There shall be a darker day : 
And the stars, from heaven down-cast. 
Like red leaves be swept away ! 
Kyrie eleyson ! 
Christe, eleyson ! 




u^ 



R D 54 4 



. »* A 



4r 'i^"*.^.*. 



^^ *'...• .G'^ 



0^ r'JA:.^' 



^o 










0*1 









o « t 
















v;> 










^-r.^ "^'i^^mi: ^o, \j^^i ^0^^^ '.""^m; .^^°- 




-AT 

vP 9^ • 



^Ao^ 














-^h^ 

^^-n^. 










• «/ V-. «> V J§oy * 'V^ %^ • 'GUIS' * v' 'J^ - V Jil 



• "y 









'^\' 





VS' 










^oV^ 






o^. * . . 





«v «1» 



/ .^K 



.^^ 

















o- "^^ 






^» ST. AUGUSTINE ' "^"""^ 
^. ^5m F"LA. 




C, vP 





